“Beautiful morning for a drive,” he commented, opening the car door for her with an old-fashioned courtesy that made her smile despite herself. The gesture reminded her of gentler times, when such manners were commonplace rather than remarkable.
“I’m really looking forward to this day trip. I appreciate you taking the time to show me around,” he said, his voice carrying a note of enthusiasm that made her earlier hesitation begin to fade. His genuine warmth helped ease the strange tension in her shoulders.
Darlene slid into the passenger seat of his car, and he placed the wicker picnic basket and the beach blanket she’d grabbed in the back seat. As they drove toward the boardwalk, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the distant cry of seagulls. The morning sun sparkled on the water, and a light breeze carried the scent of salt and seagrass through her open window.
He parked the car, and they got out. “The trailhead starts just past those trees,” she said, pointing to a wooden archway. “It’s an easy walk, perfect for spotting wildlife.”
They followed the sandy path, walking in comfortable silence. The air was filled with the gentle rustling of palm fronds and the chirping of birds. She breathed in the scent of wildflowers as the warm breeze surrounded them.
When was the last time she’d been here? She couldn’t even remember. She really should take a bit more time to smell the roses… or, in this case, the jasmine and free sea air.
They walked along the trail, side by side, and she pointed out various plants and trees, sharing tidbits of knowledge she’d gathered over the years. As they rounded a bend in the trail, Mark suddenly stopped, pointing toward the sky. “Look,” he whispered.
She followed his gaze and gasped. There, soaring majestically above the treetops, was a bald eagle. Its white head and tail gleamed in the sunlight as it circled lazily overhead.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the bird.
She nodded, transfixed by the sight. They watched in silence until the eagle disappeared from view, its presence lingering in the air like a whispered secret.
They continued wandering along the trails, enjoying the wildlife and the views, then headed back to the car. After retrieving the picnic basket, she led him along a narrow path that curved around the point of the island.
“Most tourists stick to the ocean side,” she explained as they walked. “But this is my favorite spot.”
The path opened onto a secluded cove, where gentle waves lapped at a crescent of sandy beach. A gnarled live oak spread its branches over a shaded area, creating a natural canopy.
“This is perfect,” he said as he looked around the area with appreciation.
They spread the blanket under the oak tree and Mark set down the basket. The breeze carried the softer, calmer scents of the bay—more brackish and earthy than the ocean side. She settled onto the blanket and opened the basket, laying out their simple lunch.
“I hope you like turkey sandwiches,” she said, unwrapping them from their paper. “And I brought some fresh fruit from the farmers’ market.”
“That sounds great.”
She poured them both a cup of lemonade and set her sandwich on a cloth napkin, watching the gentle waves of the bay lap at the shore. The peaceful setting made her feel at ease, despite the weight of running the B&B that usually sat on her shoulders.
“This is wonderful,” he said, biting into his sandwich. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Sometimes we forget to appreciate what’s right in our backyard.” She smiled, pulling out the container of fresh strawberries.
A flash of movement caught her eye, and she pointed toward the water. “Oh, look!”
Two dolphins broke the surface, their sleek bodies arcing gracefully through the air before they slipped back into the water. They played in the gentle waves, seeming to dance together in perfect synchronization.
He set down his sandwich, absorbed in watching them. “Nature’s best entertainment.”
As the dolphins disappeared beneath the water, a blue heron landed near the shoreline, its long legs carrying it through the shallow water with gangly steps.
“The wildlife here never fails to amaze me,” she said. Her thoughts drifted to their conversation the previous evening. “Mark, you mentioned someone named Sarah last night before Felicity came and interrupted us.”
He stilled, his sandwich forgotten on the napkin in front of him. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft splash of waves.
“Ah…” He cleared his throat. “Sarah was my wife.” His voice was quiet, barely audible above the water. “She passed away two years ago.”
“Oh, Mark. I’m so sorry.” She wanted to reach out to offer comfort, but held back.
“Cancer.” He picked up a strawberry but didn’t eat it. “It happened so fast. One day she was fine, and then…” He set the strawberry down. “She always believed in my writing more than I did. Even at the end, she gave me a notebook, told me to keep writing.”
“That must have been very difficult.”
